


Impulse

by DoctorPea



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Oral Sex, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-12
Updated: 2012-07-12
Packaged: 2017-11-09 20:41:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/458158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorPea/pseuds/DoctorPea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft gets on his knees.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Impulse

**Author's Note:**

> Written for an errant comment at the kink meme:
> 
> "Not the OP but I'm looking forward for this! How about he got on his knees for Lestrade? that's hott;)"

"How about you get on your knees for me?" Lestrade whispered.

"Here, Inspector?" Mycroft's smile was predatory against the other man's lips. "It would quite ruin my trousers I'm afraid."

Lestrade shivered as his lover slowly and deliberately stroked him through his boxers. He was already leaking, the slippery wetness leaving a damp spot on the cotton, making the fabric catch ever so slightly against the head of his cock.

"Yes, here," he gasped, thrusting his thigh between Mycroft's. "Don't tell me you've never fantasised about sucking a bloke off in a dark alley, you dirty bastard."

He could feel Mycroft chuckle against his lips (he could also feel the telltale hardness pressing against immaculately tailored trousers), then a long, positively filthy lick just behind his ear.

"You'll have to keep exceedingly quiet, though, Inspector. We are in a public place after all."

Lestrade was nodding frantically as Mycroft finally dropped to his knees and pushed his underwear out of the way, letting the cool London night air hit his naked skin. This was ridiculous, an absolutely horrible idea, definitely not professional. At all. He hadn't been so turned on in ages. He resolutely pressed one of his hands against his mouth to keep quiet, resting the other one on Mycroft's head, not daring to exert too much pressure lest the man decided to tell him to button up after all and have some patience until they were home.

Thankfully, he had no need to be pushy, as Mycroft gave him three hard strokes before taking him deep and setting up a relentless rhythm. Lestrade shoved his fist into his mouth (he'd have teeth marks to explain tomorrow) and tried not to glance down where Mycroft Holmes was rubbing at his own erection while sucking him like a rent boy. It took an embarrassingly short time before he was stifling a groan and coming down Mycroft's throat like an over-excited teenager.

Mycroft barely gave him time to stop twitching before he tucked him back into his trousers, got up and all but shoved his tongue down Lestrade's throat. He could taste the salty bitterness of his own come in Mycroft's mouth.

"You have no idea what you do to me, Greg," Mycroft hissed against his lips, before grabbing his hand and pressing it against his own hard cock.

Lestrade swallowed. His voice still came out raspy and thick. "Want me to do something about that?"

Mycroft took a step back, still breathing heavily, but disgustingly calm considering the circumstances.

"Definitely," he said. "Back home. In about ten minutes."

Damn the man's composure.


End file.
